{se} feels like I'm sleepwalking when you're gone

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

They both seem to be fighting, struggling, with knowing what’s right versus what they both desire. Too often ruled by emotion and desperation than clear heads and honest hearts. So when he pulls back - mentally and physically - she gentles her hands and looks up into his steel eyes, shadows dark and sharp pooling in the hollows of his face from the fire backlighting him.

Nobody will understand our pacing but us, and she’s thinking of Deimos, Isla, Melita, anyone who knew them before and saw their cataclysmic endings. I’ll be here in the morning whether we do or not. You’ll take me on a date regardless. If we do, it won’t ruin anything. But she tilts her head in a spill of firelit gold that spreads like a halo around her head, eyes guileless and understanding. But it can make things harder. If things don’t work out. Harder to leave, harder to move on. Easier to convince themselves to stay for the physical chemistry even if the emotional harmony doesn’t come anymore.

So all that’s left is to determine whether they’re okay with that risk; it’s the only one she can see for herself at least, knowing if they do the red threads will tighten around her, ensnaring and pinning her before he even has a chance to court her. It doesn’t stop her from thinking - personally - that it will be worth it, because for once she’s hopeful and capable of believing that they will find that harmony.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

SUNJATA

at another place in time, you were infinitely mine
relatively alright, when berenstein was fine

Nobody will understand our pacing but us, and all Sunjata can think for the moment is being back in Halo, in the Kraai, where Loren had cornered him and Nate and screamed at him for moving on after Maea so soon with Nate. It’s a thought that burns, one that had him and Nate sharing the same sentiment as the here and now – that nobody else would understand, but to them? As long as it did for them, that’s all that matters.

Optimism used to be a well worn coat for the younger version of Sunjata – hopelessly so, before wars and battles, and numerous times standing on death’s door had shifted his perspective. So he latches on as she lays out the truths of what will happen. She will be here in the morning. He will take her on a date. And selfishly, optimistically, he desperately wants to find that harmony with her after having come close on so many different occasions.

You’re right. He decides, still hovering above her and peering down at her. His heart thunders in his chest so hard that it aches, nearly causing that split second fear to encroach from the void he’s trapped it away in. But like before, the truths are laid out. There is no war coming. They are not star-crossed. They are on the same side and he loves her and she loves him, words he had struggled with saying so many times in his life. This time’s the charm, it has to be.

So he decides quickly from his perspective, through the ache in his chest, the hand at her back moving to gently cup her jaw as his wings rustle behind him, and he presses more of his weight against her as he leans down to capture her lips in a chaste kiss before that heavy horned head of his buries itself in against her neck, peppering her skin with more kisses while he drowns in her scent, hips pressing down to grind against her, leaving plenty of room for her to object should she wish to.

at another place in time, only parallel to mine
the universe was alright, when berenstein was fine

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

Once more this is a forked path, one they both need to choose to walk down the same side on. Yet she finds herself looking into his eyes, placidly waiting for his decision, and she realizes it’s because she has already made her own and is okay with whichever way he leans. It’s a new position to inhabit and one that provides a surprising amount of peace and surety. There is no wrong answer here, and she knows he’ll feel that lack of expectation and quiet reassurance on her side of the bond.

He tells her she’s right, but she isn’t sure which part of what she said that applies to, so there’s a moment of short surprise when he bends down to kiss her because it’s so chaste she isn’t sure what answer he has come to. Not until he grinds down against her, his weight an electrifyingly pleasant sensation as it pins her to the bed. Her head tosses back on a choked gasp, the first sound he has struck from her throat and one he’ll feel beneath his lips as he kisses down her neck. Both hands descend to his shoulders thoughtlessly, the easiest place to cling as pleasure slams back into her like waves against rocky cliffs, reigniting embers banked and tempered for the sake of conversation. “Fuck, Sunny,” she whispers, immediately overcome. She hasn’t been touched like this in years, always in control of any hookups, never allowing their hands or lips to linger or for them to control her pleasure. In light of that, she has no defenses against such simple but greedy touches, and it burns through her.

One hand tangles in his hair, thumb caressing the base of one horn while her legs come up to bracket his hips, aligning them more fully so that she can leverage herself up and grind back onto him. Part of her wants him to feel just as good, because of course she does, but another part has been trained into her brain to divert any attention away from herself and back into her partner so they can’t get too close. It’s undeniable that this will be the first time since leaving him years ago to have sex with emotions involved.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

SUNJATA

at another place in time, you were infinitely mine
relatively alright, when berenstein was fine

His hand loses that connection with her chin the second her head tosses back, the choked gasp from her flushes his skin and makes his blood sing. The kisses are still just that, soft and gentle as if he’s taking it slow, but she makes up the difference as she fits him in between her legs, her own hooking onto him to allow her the leverage needed to grind back against him. His breath hitches again, the ghosting of teeth along the pale column of her neck as he loosens the hold on his side of the bond unconsciously where it seems to share that same sentiment as before; mine, mine, mine.

It's a mantra and a half, given the current shift that’s overtaken most of his skin, and the second her thumb strokes along the base of one of his horns he buries a growl in against her neck, his hips grinding down again as if on instinct, drawn from the attention brought to the sensitive parts of him. His teeth ghost along her skin again, briefly, before withdrawing and pushing himself up onto his knees, hands finding her legs still wrapped around him to tug her closer with the shift in position, still peering down at her with those greedy, slit steel eyes.

His hands smooth along her thighs in a teasing movement, before abandoning them completely to lift his shirt up, wings folding back and allowing some of the heat between them to escape with the flood of the heady brothel around them pouring in. It takes a small amount of finagling given the wings in the way, but he manages to slip out of the shirt she’s likely to steal the very next day, all scars and tattoos on display in the firelight with the very notable absence of Safrin’s star mark across his chest, bare and plain if not for the lightning scars that reach like a dying tree’s branches toward his heart, where the usual fiery arrow of Lusea's tattoo sits, and the newer addition beneath it of another raised scar of NW, etched permanently into his skin.

at another place in time, only parallel to mine
the universe was alright, when berenstein was fine

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

As his possessive mantra washes over her, stoking embers into flames in a way she didn’t know could happen, her own curls back through the bond like smoke; yours, yours, yours. Because right now her own possessiveness takes a backseat to the jubilation of feeling like she’s found where she’s meant to be at last, with someone who wants her, needs her, someone she’s willing to let stake their claim upon her.

His parting is a hellish dagger, and her hands slip from his shoulders and hair with no small amount of desperate clawing, instinctually terrified to have him leave despite all the honest sentiments they’ve shared. Which is why she settles instantly the moment he hauls her closer by her legs, a thready purr beginning to rumble in her chest now that her hindbrain is convinced he isn’t leaving.

Watching greedily as he pulls his shirt off, she shimmies out of her own, leaving her in just her bralette. Only for her eyes to catch anew on that space that used to hold Safrin’s tattoo. Hotaru had noticed in the hot springs, but now she reaches for that empty spot and splays her hand across it. Then she slightly digs her nails in, leaving little pink crescent marks in an array over that empty space. “Mine,” she growls, subvocal cougar depths giving the word a far more commanding reach. A possessive violence that softens as her hand falls away, fingertips skimming Nate’s initials like a sorrowful kiss before she pulls on Sunjata with her legs, hoping to coax him back down over her body and reveling in the fact that for once she can’t make him.

Her own body he will find only marginally changed; Nate’s bite mark scars faded out on her trapezius muscles, no other scars or tattoos, and only the serrated tears - still pink - from the lamplighter that had attacked her recently near her left elbow at the bottom of her bicep. A canvas standing in unmarked contrast to how much she has changed on the inside.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

SUNJATA

at another place in time, you were infinitely mine
relatively alright, when berenstein was fine

Her own mantra’d response to his alights a purring sensation of delight, content, a surprising amount of happiness that threads through the waves of possessiveness and desire. And as he pulls away from her, he can feel the way her hands dig in, trying to find some handhold to keep him close – though he certainly won’t be gone for long, not as he tugs her closer to him and sheds out of his shirt, taking the moment to drink her in when he lets his eyes land on her again with the removal of her own shirt.

His wings rustle again, shivering as her warm hand presses in against where the constellation had been, as the sharp pressure of her nails dig in and her voice is audible as she ignites all of his attention and desires once again; arousal and admiration wrapped into one despite the crooked smirk that blooms on his face, one that doesn’t falter or fade as her hand traces the well known initials etched into his skin. “Yours.” He growls back, giving in.

But she tugs him with her legs again, an attempt to coax him back down – but he isn’t entirely done taking her in yet. His calloused hands find her legs again, his voice rough and hoarse and quite thickly accented when he rumbles a playful “patience, now” because he isn’t going anywhere. It allows him the time to run his hands up her thighs to her hips, ghosting along her naval, trailing up and up to palm at each clothed breast, before he moves to lean over her again – using the horned ends of those draconic wings to lean his weight on, if only so that he can take his time untying her bralette while keeping himself balanced enough to lean in and catch her lips with his own, an all devouring and searing kiss while the rest of his body hovers over hers, pulling at the strings in slow, languid motions.

at another place in time, only parallel to mine
the universe was alright, when berenstein was fine

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

For a moment she’d been scared that he would balk at such a staking of her claim, such a vitriolic gesture against the herald he’d once served, but clearly he takes it exactly as she’d intended - a possessive pleasure that she can take this newly empty space, make her own mark no matter how temporary it may be.

To an outsider this should be something careless, thoughtless, with how their bond is flayed wide and thrumming with animalistic urges, but for once they’re perfectly harmonious and they can understand each other. And though Ru would gladly speed things up - she has waited so many years - the way he holds back, taking her in and forcing her to be patient, is undeniably attractive. She burns beneath his gaze. Never shy, never self-conscious, but aware of every inch of her body those eyes touch.

The fabric of her leggings can’t hope to hide the heat and pressure of his hands, and she presses up into his touch everywhere it travels as if magnetized to his palms, craving every burning path he makes up her body. The pressure and greedy cupping of her breasts - already a sensitive spot - makes her arch and gasp into his mouth as it descends upon her own. Her thighs clamp instinctively around his hips, keeping their slow and sporadic grinding going as her hands maneuver up to cup his cheek and bury in his hair in tandem. Even being so bold as to grip the base of his horn there and use that leverage to pull him deeper into their kiss, tongue swiping at the seam of his lips to beg for more. He could rip the damn bra off for all she cares, she just wants every inch of skin free to be touched by his hands.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

SUNJATA

at another place in time, you were infinitely mine
relatively alright, when berenstein was fine

It’s a good thing he lives alone on the top floor, then, huh?

She’s patient, but in that way that he expects her to be – the way she arches into his touch at her breasts, the pressure of her thighs as they clamp around his hips. He, too, is blocked there by his jeans, doing a poor job at hiding the way she drives him wild. He supposes she can feel it, though, with each random grind of her hips against him, causing ripples to wake through the leathery wings that hold him up now as he dives into her lips for a kiss.

He opens willingly and swiftly for her, head tilting toward the side that she now boldly grips onto the horn there, immediately inviting her in with a muffled groan. The last strings of her bralette are undone and he quickly moves to slip it off of her, both hands coming around to cup at her chest, thumbs stroking each of her nipples in tandem with each other.

His mental voice starts to rumble again, momentarily before as if remembering himself and his ability to actually speak – though she’d recall he’s always been a rather quiet bed partner, wanting to show his appreciation with his body rather than words (he’s never been good at them in the first place, after all). Do you want to take charge…? A pause as he remembers himself. “Or shall I?” Both sets of his voice drip with his accent, that almost cocky regalia of aristocratic nature from Korofi slipping through as he grinds his hips against hers in a more expectant movement, ensuring that she knows just how much she’s affecting him, despite the tenting of his pants being quite obvious itself.

at another place in time, only parallel to mine
the universe was alright, when berenstein was fine

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

Oh, she can feel it. And it drives her positively wild.

She swallows his groan, wanting it to live eternally in her bones where she can feel it rumble through her forever. Only for her own wavering moan to be offered in exchange as his thumbs find her nipples. She has never been blessed with a busty chest, but in exchange she has always been overly sensitive, and he knows it.

Maybe that’s why, mind in shambles with the restrained press of his erection against her core and his hands playing at her breasts - and Ru can’t even start on the thickness of his accent - she lets slip honesty that might have been better left alone. “You. Please, you. I always -” do, finishes in the bond, awareness trickling in belatedly. Her cheeks darken but this time with shame, embarrassed to want so badly for Love me. But love me hard. So she can remember how it feels to have someone touch her who loves her at all. So she can drown in him, fill her senses with the way he smells, moves, touches. To finally let go of her tight-fisted control and let someone else take over. To lean into the newness of trusting him again by giving herself entirely to him.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

SUNJATA

at another place in time, you were infinitely mine
relatively alright, when berenstein was fine

He does know it, and it’s the majority of the reason in which he focuses so intently on keeping his hands on her rather than balancing himself. He has his wings for that, the added pressure on the mattress and bed frame as he uses it to his advantage, letting his palms dance along her skin as he too swallows down the sounds that slip from her.

The kiss breaks so that they can speak, but he keeps his head nearer to hers, pressing kisses against her jawline and cheek (also due to the grip she has on his head, he certainly isn’t going far). But as her honesty overcomes the bond with shame and embarrassment, all he can flare is soothing happiness, contentment, an agreement that he wants to take charge if she wants him to without any complaints.

I do love you. He rumbles thickly again, an established fact from before they even started down this adventure. But as for right now? His hands move to abandon her chest, to slip toward her leggings, maneuvering the two of them the best he can to slip the rest of her clothes off of her. He hovers in close again, though his lips have moved to where her shoulder and neck meet, allowing him just enough space to reach for the nightstand off to the side to seek out the protection stashed away there.

His other hand moves to the apex of her thigh, fingers pressing in against her wet heat, circling her clit in tender movements as he ghosts his teeth along her skin again as he takes the moment to work at the buttons of his pants.

at another place in time, only parallel to mine
the universe was alright, when berenstein was fine

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

The ebb and flow of emotions - with him, at least - is still so precious and new, and his reassurances sink into the holes of her shame and pull it apart until it has nowhere left to hide, dissolving into nothingness. Hotaru has always been the one to take control, either out of a need to hold all the cards or some misplaced belief that it was necessary. Even with Sunjata, she had longed to take the weight from his shoulders, to take even the burden of thinking and choosing away from him regardless of how and where they were entangled. It's hard not to feel guilty for not trying to do it again, but she can't. She wants to open this door, bare this vulnerable part of herself, and trust that he will take care of her. Of everything. A trust she's never placed in anyone, not even in Sunjata, in those halcyon days of their past.

It's why the easy reminder of his love for her has her warring with tears, no matter how happy they are. At least with his lips against her neck he can't see them or misunderstand why they're present. She's incandescently happy, but there will always be that brief moment of fear when you freefall, no matter how secure you are in the knowledge you'll be caught. I love you too, is all she can manage, because surely he will feel the rest, but these words are ones that are better heard.

His fingers at her clit make her thighs jolt and clench uselessly, barred by the presence of his hips between them. She gasps straight into his ear, hand tightening around the base of his horn and around his shoulder. You can mark. I don't mind. A reassurance that comes almost shyly as she feels the touch of his teeth scrape without real pressure against her shoulder. Hotaru doesn't intend to hide this, hide him, no matter what the future holds. A sweet contrast to the way her lower back arches off the bed in mindless desire for more, craving the electric touch of his fingers.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

SUNJATA

at another place in time, you were infinitely mine
relatively alright, when berenstein was fine

It’s so much different than before – and that’s likely due to the Attuned bond connecting them in ways they never had the chance to be before. He and Nate had this closeness, and it had always been a welcome reprieve to not have to try and untangle his words to try and get his true feelings across. If he could simply send them, then that would work out better. And it does, right here, right now, because he can feel the way her shame melts away into nothing as he takes charge, his own happiness and content blazing over any worries she might have.

He'll finally take care of her. And it’s that thought that bolsters the gentle I love you too that comes across in streaking rays of sunlight through the bond that Sunjata can’t help but to shiver with as he buries his face into her neck, trailing kisses and the blunt edge of his teeth along. But she reads his mind, easily so with how open and connected they are right now, that he’s sure she can feel the way it floods the air of possessiveness he’s been holding back.

It takes some time for him to work at the buttons of his pants, thoroughly distracted with the sounds she makes. It doesn’t help that it’s a one handed endeavor in the first place. But it’s evident that he focuses on trying to appease her, giving her his touch in how he circles her clit, letting himself bite down just enough to leave a small red mark but nothing that would end up longer lasting. Yet, at least. I will warn you now that I will be unbearable seeing the marks I leave on you. His mental voice is a growl, not unlike how the possessive nature of his dragon shift offers in the air between them. Not only was he a protective man, but with draconic tendencies included.

Luckily, he gets his pants unbuttoned and can shimmy out of them enough to slip that protection on, already hard and wanting, his kisses along her neck and cheek applying more pressure – enough that the free hand now has to move to her head to cradle, his other hand still toying with her pauses just enough to make sure he can line himself up, offering a small amount of pressure there as if silently asking if she were ready.

at another place in time, only parallel to mine
the universe was alright, when berenstein was fine

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

Maybe this would have changed things back then. Hotaru thinks it might have, because she has never understood him better than this moment, and it all finally feels right. Especially when he loosens his grip on the possessiveness he's been holding back. She doesn't want it to be tied down and minimized. She wants to bathe in the heat of his avarice, soak in the covetous nature of both man and beast.

Good. Be unbearable, she bids, hand twisting in his hair as he leaves the first small mark. I don't want you to hold back any of it. They are two storms, and the convergence will keep everyone else at bay, leaving the two of them unharmed and riotous in their union. Hotaru doesn't want it any other way.

Reluctantly removing her hands so he can better adjust their bodies as he slips on protection, Ru cants her hips wantonly the moment she can feel the blunt heat of him nudging against her core. She's more than wet enough, and she's done waiting - there's no need for hesitation, and she shows him with the tightening of her legs around his waist, drawing him forward just enough to begin sinking his cock into her. A tease on both sides as she whines low in her throat, hands coming up to link behind his neck.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

SUNJATA

at another place in time, you were infinitely mine
relatively alright, when berenstein was fine

Oh he intends to be, now that she’s given him the green light. He’s going to mark and touch and lay claim to every bit and piece of her that he can. And if he thinks that thought is overwhelming, it’s nothing compared to that bolstered pride that blossoms in his chest. I hope you’re ready. He rumbles through the bond, hoarse and deep and greedy as she shifts her hips, locks her legs around his hips and pulls him in ever so slightly.

His body trembles, a true ripple drifting down the wings that help support him, his hand at her head spreading to thread through her golden crown of hair. Her hands dance along his hardened, sunkissed skin, and he buries his face back in against her neck to bite down hard enough to leave that mark he intends to, right when he rocks his hips into her to sink his cock in deep. She’d said to love her hard, and he certainly intends to. His hand abandons her golden hair to drift lower, to toy at her nipples as he aims for drawing out all of her sensitivities, trying to drive her wild.

He can’t help the brief pause, however, fully joined, to pull back from the bite and press an apologetic kiss to the spot he’s sure likely aches, a mental purr of a rumble of Gods— that he can’t quite finish the statement of. She’ll know, though, from the sunny sensation that seems to scream you feel so good, as he continues to circle her clit with his thumb, trying to give her as much of that touching stimulation that he can. And he knows her, too, knows that she needs that extra attention if she wants to get off.

at another place in time, only parallel to mine
the universe was alright, when berenstein was fine